


Heaven Scent

by fiveainley_ohmy



Series: Free To Be Dean and Cas [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dean Winchester is So Whipped, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Human Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27615697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiveainley_ohmy/pseuds/fiveainley_ohmy
Summary: Cas and Dean describe what the other smells like (it’s more romantic than it sounds). I apologize for the terrible pun in the title.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Free To Be Dean and Cas [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2019076
Comments: 3
Kudos: 46





	Heaven Scent

**Author's Note:**

> Meant to take place after the finale, after getting Cas back from the Empty.

Cas had fallen asleep against his chest in the middle of _Smokey and the Bandit_ —Dean had no idea how. It was a _classic_. Nevertheless, he found himself losing interest in the movie and watching Cas sleep, all curled up against him like a hedgehog, listening to his soft, even breathing. Human or not, there was still something angelic about the way Castiel looked when he was asleep, totally relaxed, content.

And the fact that _Dean_ was the one who made him feel that way, content...wow.

Dean had never had a relationship like this before, not even in his short time living the domestic life with Lisa. Dean would’ve once scoffed at the idea of going all warm and fuzzy at the sight of one’s sleeping partner, but now, he was totally and unbelievably _whipped_. And he _liked_ it.

On his man cave’s big screen TV, Smokey tore after the Bandit in his near-demolished police car as the credits started to roll. Dean turned off the movie with the remote, his slight movement stirring Cas.

“Mmm,” hummed the former angel, nuzzling his face in Dean’s chest (could hearts _actually_ melt?). “Smell good,” he mumbled.

“Oh yeah?” Dean said with a soft smirk.

Cas hummed affirmatively, curling his arms more securely around Dean, like an octopus. “Couldn’t smell you when I was an angel. Missed smell. And taste. And touch too, come to think of it. Touch is different now...better in some ways, even though there are drawbacks. I can’t sense your soul anymore when I touch you but...I can feel how warm you are, the firm muscles under your skin, how soft your hair is when it doesn’t have styling gel in it. It’s an experience I wouldn’t give up for all the angelic mojo in the universe.”

Dean was totally floored. How did Cas _do_ that? How was he supposed to _respond_ to that? “So, uh...what do I smell like, then?” he asked, changing the subject.

Cas took another deep whiff of him. “Um...very manly,” he said, laughing softly. “Like sawdust and coffee and just a hint of Baby’s motor oil. But there’s something sweet there too, like...toffee. Yes. That’s it. You smell very welcoming, Dean.”

“Too bad you can’t bottle my scent, honey,” Dean joked. “Eau de Righteous Man.”

Cas chuckled, finally raising his head and opening his eyes so Dean could see those baby blues. “So what do I smell like to you?” he asked.

When Cas had been an angel, Dean thought he smelled like pure lightning, like you’d get a shock to the system just from breathing in too hard. Not that Dean went around _smelling_ Cas when he was an angel. That was some Hannibal Lecter shit Dean wasn’t down with. But sometimes he couldn’t help but catch a whiff of the angel, like electricity in the air...he’d swear it made his hair stick up on end.

Now that Cas was human, his scent had chilled out a bit. Dean took a sniff of Cas’s hair. “I smell mango.”

“That’s my conditioner,” Cas chuckled. “C’mon, I wanna know what _I_ smell like. Fair is fair.”

“Alright, alright, honey.” Dean’s nose found its way into the neck of Cas’s hoodie. “I smell...you know that smell you get that lets you know there’s about to be a rainstorm? Like that.”

“You mean I smell like petrichor.”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“What else?”

“Um...well...you also kinda smell like...honey.” Dean blushed.

A slow smile spread across Cas’s face. “Wait. Is _that_ why you call me honey?”

“No...”

“Oh my gosh...you are a _cheeseball_.”

“You take that back.”

“Cheeseball.”

“I’m a badass!”

“Cheeseball!”

“I _killed Hitler!_ ”

“You’re a cheeseball.”

Dean gave up, dramatically shrugging in annoyance. As Cas leaned in close to kiss him, Dean couldn’t help but think to himself, _but I’m_ **_your_ ** _cheeseball._


End file.
